


Self Discovery

by LadyLaela (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: First Time, Insecurity, M/M, Self-cest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-26
Updated: 2011-06-26
Packaged: 2017-10-20 18:01:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/LadyLaela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He could think of exactly one thing to say. It was perfectly logical to him, so he knew Davesprite would agree – hell, if it was anyone but his own goddamn self he'd never say it. He opened his mouth, but the sprite beat him to it.</p><p>“Wanna fuck?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Self Discovery

The new cards now in his captchalog, Dave was left staring at... himself. Orange, floating and slightly transparent as he was, it was undoubtably him. He hadn't exactly been prepared for anything like this, and he had no fucking clue how to react. What does one say to themself after the initial 'hey, man' and an exchange about the general awesomeness of them both (or should he not say both because they were the same dude? Fuck, his head hurt).

He could think of exactly one thing to say. It was perfectly logical to him, so he knew Davesprite would agree – hell, if it was anyone but his own goddamn self he'd never say it. He opened his mouth, but the sprite beat him to it.

“Wanna fuck?”

Dave broke into a grin. “That's the best idea any dude could have. Of fucken course I'm the only one awesome enough to say that shit.”

“We are so fuckin cool,” the sprite said, his expression a perfect match to Dave's. They bunped.

“The coolest.”

It wasn't awkward to start it off. It hardly could be when they were the same person.

Dave pressed his lips softly against his sprite's. He hadn't ever kissed anyone because he'd never had much of anyone to kiss. He knew a few guys in his neighborhood, sure, but he'd never seen a single girl he'd given more than a fleeting thought or a passing 'hey' to.

Wait. Making out with himself – having sex with himself – must make him gay.

With a sinking feeling, he realized that it wasn't this that made him a homo. This shit was straight up masturbation. It was the weird shit he thought about John that made him that.

He realized he'd been distracted, and tried to kiss back; but shit... his only experience was a little embarassed pressing his lips against his index and middle finger when he was some little preteen, just starting to masturbate in the shower when he thought his brother would never know. Not like the doubled length of his showers would be a dead giveaway at all.

It had taken him a few more years of wet dreams to admit he wanted to pretend he was kissing John.

Davesprite pulled back a little. “Loosen up your mouth, man. Try'n go with it or some shit like that.”

“What makes you know any fuckin more than I would,” Dave grumbled, flushing a little. It wasn't often he was anything less than awesome, after all.

“I remember doin this. You're the Knight of fucking Time, don't be a tool.”

The paradoxes made everything hurt, so Dave just took his own damn advice, relaxing and leaning into it a little. He told himself his stupid ass should stop being so embarassed. He was the only one there, after all.

He shivered a little when he felt feathers brush his back, startled and not sure at first what they were. Davesprite's wings had spread to enshroud them. His lips were strangely perfectly tangible, as well as the very insubstantial looking tail that he could very definetely feel on his inner thigh. He was suddenly blushing again, fuck. Best to pretend it wasn't happening. Stay cool, Dave. Like always. He reached down to adjust his pants, the seam getting increasingly uncomfortable as he grew hard.

At least he knew they'd both agree to keeping their glasses on the whole time, of that he was pretty sure. He hadn't felt this fucking small and shameful since Bro had casually glanced up from the TV when a thirteen year old Dave had exited the bathroom after a particularly long shower, a towel around his waist.

 _Aw, lil bro's balls've dropped. That's real fucken cute. Gotta tell ya man to man, any place is less damn obvious than the shower._

Only Bro could make stuff like that sound affectionate instead of condescending. Still, the burning shame of that moment, however his brother had tried to lessen it, still felt fresh as a just-cracked bottle of juice.

 _Y'need alone time this fucken age anyways. I promise ya I'll start knockin._

That tail rubbed against him through his pants, and he grit his teeth to surpress a soft groan. Gotta stay cool, Dave. No matter what happens.

Stay cool.

He felt something hot pressing on his hip, and he opened his eyes to see the sprite looking embarassed, too. A glance down immediately told him why.

“Yeah,” Davesprite said sheepishly, “guess I got a dick. In a sheath or somethin, like fucken excalibur but bigger n'better, right?”

“No shit,” it was all he could think to say, the awesome reference had already been made.

Orange, slightly glowing hands pushed up his shirt, brushing over that spot on his lower back that always made his skin goosebump. Surpressing a really uncool shiver, he placed his hands on Davesprite's chest and dug in just a little with his nails, earning an equally surpressed and just as uncool gasp.

It was hot as fuck up on the roof of the Houston apartment building – Dave could actually see the heat shimmer if he looked in certain spots, and he was greatful for the shade of Davesprite's wings, especially as his shirt was discarded and his pale, freckled shoulders and back were exposed – sunburnt to peeling many times already from chilling and sparring and shit up here with Bro.

Still pale as Jesus in a white man's church. Fuck.

Lips met again, and hands moved to his pants. Nerves gripped him for a moment – he knew he was just the kind of bastard to laugh at some other guy's cock – but then he realized he wasn't about to at his own, and the restriction of his briefs was making him ache.

Dave didn't feel exposed until his briefs slid down to his feet, and he looked down at the ugly left curve and those damn ginger curls and he suddenly didn't think the roof was such a cool place to do this any more.

“Stop it. Fuck... this ain't sports and I'm not gonna call you firecrotch, man,” it was said just as plain as he should've expected, and was so stupidly true he had no idea how he hadn't realized it. That first furtive time he'd jacked it under his desk, typing to John with his other hand, before that feeling of dirty disgust had been a sort of humiliated fear. His simple little missionary-position-on-my-bed fantasy had become John laughing at him.

Then of course came everything about what a pervert he was doing this, how fucking sick, what would John think if he knew.

Then a cold shower. Fuck.

Hadn't been too long until he'd done it again.

He wasn't fast enough to catch the gasp he made when the heat of the sprite's cock lay against his own, though it was nothing to the goddamn heat on the roof. You could fry a whole breakfast, fuck eggs. He could feel the heat of the cement through the soles of his chucks.

“I... I ain't gettin down on that,” he managed, his voice wavering more than he'd ever admit.

“Nah, gonna have to fuck you standin up,” Davesprite was smirking.

“No way you're fuckin me, feathers,” Dave said, his face heating up again. “No way. I'm not takin it up the ass.”

“Well, s'gonna go that way,” the sprite was still smirking at him. Dave had never had any idea how infuriating that look could be. “Doesn't seem I got anywhere to stick it in.”

“You tellin me you got a cock and no ass?” Dave felt incredibly ridiculous; he was standing in the middle of a metor storm on the roof of his massive apartment building in nothing but his sockless feet in chucks, and arguing with his own fucking self about whose dick went where.

“Yeah. Now suck it up, man.”

Dave didn't like saying even to himself that he wasn't gay enough to bottom, but shit. When it came down to it, that was probably the thing. Be cool, Dave. Just stay cool. The guys in all your porn look like they're having a great time.

“... you're straight up right.”

Davesprite licked his fingers, pulling them away slick with spit. Bravely, Dave spread his legs a little, planting his feet on the cement. He swallowed. Stay cool, Dave.

Just stay cool.

He grit his teeth as he felt a blunt finger tip touching him there. It felt exactly like when he'd done it himself, only one time... so cautious and hesitant and was this even something he could really do? But now the finger that was his wasn't _his_ , and it wasn't hesitant.

Dave gave an undignified grunt through his teeth. Maybe he wasn't doing it to himself this time, but it was that same damn weird, almost-good feeling. He shifted uncomfortably, and Davesprite's other hand moved to support him properly. Soon another finger joined the first, and that actually hurt a little. He clenched his teeth until he could actually feel his jaw seizing, surpressing a small tremor.

“Not gonna tell anyone if y'make a little noise. But I know you aren't gonna... we don't fuckin roll that way,” the sprite said quietly, tonelessly.

Dave gave a short, sharp nod. He'd never made a single noise in the act, and it wasn't just about his brother not hearing. He'd known from the first that he was too cool to whimper and whine when he got off. He'd started off with his lips tightly pursed and his free hand in a shaky fist, but by now he could lay back and do it without so much a twitch of his mouth, much less a change of expression.

He was disappointed in himself – what the fuck was he doing pulling faces and making noises? This was bullshit. He took a deep breath and composed himself, but then Davesprite stretched up his fingers and hit _something_ , and ohgodwhatthefuckwasthat. Dave gave a positively girly little choked whimper, clapping a hand to his mouth.

“I'll forget that happened,” Davesprite said, but he sounded smug.

“You're an a-asshole,” Dave choked, angry at the tremor in his voice.

“So're you.”

He had a point and Dave's mind wasn't currently sharp enough to come up with a comeback, so he kept his mouth tightly shut. Suddenly, the fingers slipped out of him, leaving a slight soreness, and Dave braced because he knew what had to come next.

“If you tense up like that this ain't gonna work,” Davesprite said, arching one orange eyebrow.

“Well, y'know, sorry about that shit,” Dave replied, his tone biting, “but I'm findin it hard to be chill about some dude's dick bein shoved up in me.”

“First of all, it's _yours_ , second of all, stop bein such a baby about this, man. Puttin shame t'the Strider name.”

Dave wanted to tell him to shut up, but didn't want to get called a whiny asshole; and he knew he would. So he closed his eyes and fell into the familiar comfort of a breathing excercise. He planted his feet again, letting the tension ebb from his muscles like Bro always made him do before they sparred.

“Better,” Davesprite said, and Dave heard him spit into his hand. Next thing he knew, he could feel the sprite's orange warmth all over his body, heard the tiny click of their shades touching at the bridge, felt the end of the swordhilt press against his sternum. He felt a wet press against himself and opened his eyes. He knew how close the sprite was, but still wasn't ready for it – they were literally nose to nose, eye to eye.

Davesprite gave him a little kiss, a ridiculous fucking calming gesture like some Little House on the Prairies asshole shushing his loving wife. Dave opened his mouth to bitch about it, but that was the moment the sprite thrust up against him and he ended up giving a sharp, hot gasp.

 _Damn_ that hurt. It was hard to keep things slick enough in the Texas heat, never mind up on the fucking asphalt roof. He felt every inch as it went in, and suddenly found himself wishing for the first time in his life that he had a smaller dick. By the time he got all the way in, Dave's eyes were watering just enough that he was grateful for the shades. It was't that he couldn't take pain – he could. But it was burning and stretching and it felt so damn _weird_.

The sprite was panting, his wings twitching slightly, making the little dapples of sunlight on the two of them shift and dance erratically.

“Move and I'll put another hole through you...” Dave said through gritted teeth, fighting to adjust to the intrusion.

After a few moments, it was at least bearable. Predictably, Davesprite seemed to notice the loosening of his features, the imperceptible ease of tension on his face. He started to rock against him very gently, very slowly, rubbing Dave's cock against his stomach, stirring up something deep in his body he didn't quite understand.

Dave kept his face perfectly under control, giving a nearly inaudible little grunt when that crazy spot inside of him was brushed against, just barely, just enough. Apparently it was the green light Davesprite was looking for, because suddenly he was fucking him in earnest and Dave was gritting his teeth because holy shit was it ever dry and rough. He moved a little, trying to twist his body, to get it in that spot that made him feel good. It only took him a few guesses to find it.

His dick had been flagging from the discomfort, but that made him throb with arousal again. There was no way in hell he'd bite his lip -

 _The way he'd always imagined John would their first time, all schoolgirl blush and adorable swollen lips and those big buckteeth nibbling just a little..._

So he grit his teeth harder, tightened his mouth, wrinkled his nose just the tiniest bit, and rocked right back up against the sprite. There was no way he'd let other him have total control.

There was also no way he was going to get off like this. Dave was pretty sure he wasn't having the best first time. Real lube would probably help. Davesprite was doing better, but obviously felt it too. “I haven't ripped y'open or anything, have I, man?”

“Think if y'did it'd be easier goin...” Dave said through his teeth, giving a grateful sigh as the sprite wrapped his hand around his cock, jerking him just the way he liked it.

“That feel better?” the sprite's voice was strained too, but he didn't stutter. Dave knew neither of them would talk unless they were sure they could control their voice.

“Y'know it.”

He could tell me the tiny nuances in Davesprite's expression that he was damn close. He sped up the rocking of his hips, his rhythm perfect still and why wouldn't it be. He desired to help less than he desired to get off too. Damn it, he wouldn't be the loser left jerking himself.

Dave knew when the sprite came because of the tiny hitch in his breath and the tensing of his body. He didn't feel much inside, and fuck knew he didn't make a sound when he got the big O.

 _And what would John's face look like? He'd probably hide it shyly in his hands or the blankets, making embarrassing little noises, clinging so tight to Dave's hand, clinging like he was a lifeline, like he needed him... bowing his back up and whining out Dave's name in a breaking, impossibly sexy fucking voice..._

Dave spilled too, the image in his mind getting him there like it did when he jacked off. Fuck, if he ever sucked John off or something in real life, watched his face and just teased him, he was pretty sure he'd jizz in his pants. There was only a tiny twitch of his hips as semen coated his stomach.

Breath still a little heavy, Davesprite pulled out, his dick slowly retreating into its sheath – which was weird as hell to watch. He tossed Dave his jeans, and got a curt nod in return. There was a long pause, Dave struggling into the damn things without taking his shoes off, and then...

“... y'thought about John the whole time, didn't ya?”

Dave looked up. He didn't blush, he almost never did. “Yeah.”

“... Me too.”


End file.
